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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708794">Shake It Like A What?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurelSilver/pseuds/LaurelSilver'>LaurelSilver</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Victimised [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hollywood Undead (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bro Time, COSHH/OSHA non-compliance, Earthquakes, Gen, minor emergency, references to violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:47:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurelSilver/pseuds/LaurelSilver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i> "Shake it like a what? F-ck you!" </i> J-Dog &amp; Chorus, Tear It Up</p><p>No in-text violence, just bro-time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>n/a</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Victimised [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/910587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shake It Like A What?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>NAMES:<br/>Dylan (Funny Man)<br/>Jorel (J-Dog)<br/>Johnny (Johnny 3 Tears)<br/>Charlie (Charlie Scene)<br/>Matty (Da Kurlzz)<br/>Danny (Danny)</p><p>No major warnings apply here, just a few references to having tools and stuff like that.</p><p>Worldbuilding reminder; this fic takes place in a warehouse kitted out to be half studio apartment, half murderhouse.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door rattled in its frame as the earth quaked underfoot. The Cali natives ignored it, only Dylan reaching lazily to make sure his freshly poured coffee didn’t topple straight over. Only Dylan had any coffee left, now cold in the mug. He had been too busy watching horror movies on his phone, completely engrossed in the blood and gore. Every now and then he would force someone else to re-watch a scene with him and analyse exactly where the director went wrong, how bones don’t snap like that and skin doesn’t tear like that and blood doesn’t splatter like that. But, he had to suppose, if a director got it all <em>too</em> right and some psycho killer pointed it out, then that director would have a lot to answer for.</p><p>The gas canister rattled on its base in a slow, ringing circle. The noise attracted the rising of six heads and the dropping of two pairs of headphones. The canister rolled on its corner, away from the wall and seem to hang there like it was stretching backwards.</p><p>It hit the floor with a metallic bang. The cap twisted with shock and was forced off, skittering over the concrete and rolling towards the trio of sofas.</p><p>Jorel was the first on his feet. The canister made the softest of hisses as Jorel reached for it, pressing a finger over the nozzle as if that was going to help.</p><p>Johnny got up next, apparently the only one with the brains to pick up the plastic cap. It had a crack straight through the middle, and Johnny wondered why a gas company would make such shitty caps.</p><p>By the time Johnny has zoned back in from pondering the uselessness of a plastic failsafe, Charlie and Dylan, in-house disasters naturally, were also huddled over the canister, twisting the dial and prodding the still-hissing nozzle. Matty and Danny had tugged the fridge forward and flipped the emergency switch. The switch only stopped the gas flowing through the pipe connected to the stove and oven, not the entire canister, but at least Matty’s precious oven wouldn’t get blown up a second time.</p><p>Johnny shoved Charlie out of the way and pressed the cap over the nozzle. The hissing stopped for all of a second before the cap split straight in half.</p><p>Dylan swore and pressed a finger over the nozzle, which continued to be no help whatsoever. Charlie scrabbled for the pieces and Jorel let out a scratchy cough.</p><p>Danny rooted through drawers for something, anything that might help hold the nozzle closed. He grabbed and threw things out at random; metal tools, rolled lengths of cord, a broad assortment of lighters and matches. The items clattered and a few of them broke.</p><p>Matty pulled a drawer open and rifled through the knives and screwdrivers laid sentient in there. He dragged a flat packet of dollar store blu-tak out and tore it open. The lump pressed and squeezed in his hand as he shoved the dense plasticine over the nozzle and smoothed it into place.</p><p>Jorel coughed again. “Dude, what the fuck?”</p><p>“Oh fuck off,” Matty said “Twenty years of smoking and you can’t handle thirty seconds of cooking gas?”</p><p>“That shit’s awful.”</p><p>“It’s not that bad,” Dylan said, “Just smells of eggs.”</p><p>“Eggs are gross.”</p><p>The group sighed. Matty rolled his eyes and stalked off, ignorant to the fact that Jorel had the exact same reaction to Matty’s alien rants.</p><p>Danny handed Jorel a can of knock-off cola from the fridge. “Just calm down. Charlie, come help me put the fridge back, yeah?”</p><p>“I’m banned from the kitchen,” Charlie said far too quickly.</p><p>“Just help me,” Danny sighed.</p><p>Charlie pouted but helped, pushing and turning until the fridge was snug against the narrow cabinet that kept the stove and the fridge apart. Charlie was pretty sure it was a meant to be a bathroom cabinet but he wasn’t about to tell Matty that. It mostly contained Tupperware and jars anyway, nothing Charlie was worried about.</p><p>Danny opened the fridge and gave it a check over. “I think we’re good.”</p><p>Jorel had plonked himself on one of the sofas, laid across it like he owned the place, headphones retrieved and replaced over his ears, shoes kicked off before Matty needed to remind him. Matty and Dylan shared another, Dylan back on his phone and rewinding his movie, Matty flipping through some <em>I Want To Believe </em>magazine that Charlie and Jorel had already lovingly graffitied with dicks. Johnny had centred himself on the third, arms stretched out over the back, boots up on the coffee table. If anyone else treated the coffee table like that Matty would have lost his shit, but Johnny got just a handful of special privileges . Johnny laughed as Charlie dove over the back of the sofa into his lap, and rubbed at Charlie’s belly like an excited puppy. Danny took Johnny’s other side, sitting politely and leaning on Johnny’s side for his own snuggles.</p><p>Jorel nodded along to his music and raised the unopened can to his face. When nothing poured through the sealed hole, he grunted and fingered the tab. Dylan and Charlie caught each other’s eye in total unison.</p><p>“J-Dog, no!” Charlie started.</p><p>The tab opened. The carbonated canon hit Jorel square on the nose and rushed up his nostrils, fizzing and foaming as he choked.</p><p>Jorel spasmed upright, coughing. The liquid dripped down his nose and mouth, sticky and fake-sweet. Matty laughed, not even bothering to try to hide it in a fist like Johnny and Danny had resorted to. Charlie stood over Jorel, frozen in shock.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Dylan asked. He was smiling behind his hand, more set off than Matty’s hysterics than anything else.</p><p>“What the fuck?” Jorel said, and spat soda onto the rug. Matty was gonna go nuts about that once he’d calmed down.</p><p>“We shook them up,” Charlie said, voice tiny, “It’s only Matty that drinks them normally.”</p><p>Matty either didn’t hear or didn’t care. He sat there, propped up on his elbow, huffing the last of his laughter.</p><p>“Noted,” Jorel said. He lifted the edge of his shirt to wipe at his face. It barely helped, the sugar still clinging to his skin and stubble.”I’m getting a shower. Can I turn the gas back on?”</p><p>“The water doesn’t heat,” Johnny said, half-remembering Matty rambling at him about it at some point, “The gas only connects to the stove, everything else just is what it is.”</p><p>“So I can’t even get a hot shower?”</p><p>“Dude, it’s a murderhouse. I wouldn’t have thought to put a shower in a murderhouse at all.”</p><p>“This is why we use my place, not yours,” Matty said.</p><p>“Fuck off.”</p><p>“Nah, I’m good.”</p><p>Jorel rolled his eyes and headed off for his shower, headphones and half-empty can left on the table.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written for Whumptober 2020<br/>The prompt for the first half was "Okay, who had natural disasters on their 2020 bingo card?", hence Dylan and Charlie getting called "In-house disasters naturally".</p><p>I've seen a few videos (facebook watch + depression not-naps = watching shit that's completely irrelevant to me) about Cali natives being used to earthquakes, so this is where we went.<br/>Always store fuels safely. Usually, you wouldn't store gas cannisters inside like this but in a covered outdoor area. However, that would look suspicious, so the guys have to keep them inside. They should also be chained upright and their safety features (i.e. the cap) should be checked regularly, but when you get used to handling something you start cutting corners on safety. So this is a reminder to stay on top of H&amp;S procedures. These fics are COSHH/OSHA compliant.<br/>On that note, Charlie is banned from the kitchen because he blew up the stove one time.<br/>I don't know how long Jorel has been smoking for, the 20 years was a guess. Also I know he vapes now, that's in the same league. I don't want ciggy smoke or vape blown in my face, thank you.<br/>Matty put the warehouse together so he's a bit possessive of it. This has the unfortunate side-effect of making him behave like an exasperated housewife.<br/>Johnny gets special privileges because Matty held him hostage a few years ago.<br/>Matty stays sober in the warehouse as a strict rule. The others do not, but there is no cocaine in the warehouse ever.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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